She's A Brick And I'm Drowning Slowly
by AllTheThingsThatSheSaid
Summary: My first attempt at Motive fanfiction. Vega's point of view on season's two finale. Angie's struggling with her personal demons and doesn't realize in the process she's breaking her unbreakable partner. Please read and leave me a review. (One-Shot)


**She's a brick and I'm drowning slowly...**

**...**

He can't breathe. The thought occurs to him out of nowhere, quietly, as if the fact that all the oxygen in the room condensing and forming into a tight knot in the back of his throat shouldn't alarm him at all. She raises her eyes from her coffee cup for a split second, turning her head, and catching a glimpse of his face expression. His mouth is wide open in silent disbelief and there's hollowness behind his dark eyes. She can see it right away and averts her attention away from him. He wonders if she knows that she is stealing all of the air from the room, if she knows she is causing his lungs to shut down, that she is his only remaining source of life-support.

She stands up; pushing her chair back and placing the bottle of alcohol down on her desk. He tries to tell her she's in no condition to drive but words evade him. He opens his mouth and then closes it and still nothing comes out. She stares at him, for one long steady moment, her eyes speaking volumes. They're blue and glittering in an alcohol induced haze. The tight line of her lips quaver as she fights back the tears. She's a mess, she's always going to be a mess but he's no longer allowed to help her clean-up these messes, most she has created inside her own mind. If only she could see herself the way that he sees her, then she would know.

She walks off with her shoulders shaking and her head bent and he watches as she goes; his face void of all emotion. He sighs and takes a slow breath, the room suddenly feeling very small and empty. He tries not to think too much, sitting alone in the dark bullpen, believing that this is as much his fault as it is hers.

**...**

_The cold haze of wind hangs around them like a thick, damp blanket and the sky is dark and gray, and he thinks it might rain at any moment. He walks ahead of her, his stride larger than hers, but she's keeping pace, only inches separate them. They round the corner to where the body is located and suddenly she is beside him, matching him stride to stride. Her eyes are narrowed and her face is stern and he grins to himself as he purposely steps up the tempo, trying to beat her to where the body is. A determined smile creeps slowly across her face because she knows she can hold her own and to his bewilderment she does just that._

_They both arrive to where Betty is standing at the same exact time. He tries to play coy as the doctor arches a brow pointedly. When he thinks that she's not looking, he sneaks a peek at his partner. She appears to be focused on the task at hand but he can see that her cheeks are red and flushed, so he intentionally brushes his hand against hers. She smiles but keeps her eyes lowered. Suddenly the sky breaks and the rain begins hammering down on them. It's an unrelenting downfall and shows no signs of stopping. He pulls off his coat and holds it over her head. She glances up and catches his eye as she reaches across pulling the coat so it now tents the both of them. She makes some comment about how they are partners and that partners have each other's back but he can barely hear her over the rain. It's their first case together and he can't help but to think that this could actually work, that they could work._

**...**

He's leaving the precinct when he hears her in the bathroom, the soft sounds of her muffled cries. He's momentary relieved to know that she's still there because she really wasn't in any state to be driving but then his heart is shattering all over the place because he can hear her and she sounds so completely broken. He ignores that fact that it's the ladies restroom and walks in. She's sloped against the wall, her knees drawn against her chest. Her eyes are red and puffy and her lipstick is smudged and faded and she bites her lip. He walks over and stands real close that she has no choice but to look up at him.

For some reason the sight of him triggers something and she begins to sob uncontrollably. He's not sure what to do and moves only out of reflex, reaching down and gripping the fabric of her shirt tightly in his fingers. And then he's pulling and somehow she manages to stand on her feet, pressing her back into the wall as she meets his eyes. He needs to say something but he knows if he speaks now his words will be angry and bitter and they would mark and scar her, and she's already so damaged, he doesn't want to break her down any more than she already is, so he doesn't say anything.

Salt-glass tears glitter in the corner of her eyes but she doesn't look away, allows him to see her so brutally raw. And before he gives himself enough time to think about the consequences of his actions, he crosses the short distance that separates them and kisses her hard on the mouth. She moans against his lips and fights it for only a second until he can feel her mouth part and he slips his tongue in to taste her. It flickers along the roof of her mouth, tasting the bitterness of scotch and the sticky sweetness that could only be described as her own flavor. He grips the back of her neck tighter and pulls her closer to him, needing to taste her deeper, further.

**...**

_When he turns down the promotion, he finds it isn't hard for him to do. Instead, some guy named Mark Cross gets it and for some unknown reason, he rubs him the wrong way. She's elated the moment he informs her that he's not going anywhere and in the next second Mark Cross is being introduced and he can't help but to notice the way her smile fades or the sudden tension that ripples throughout her body. He never asks and she never explains it but he can tell there's more to it._

_For days later, she's angry that he didn't get the promotion, taking it personal. He doesn't tell her it was his choice to turn it down. Instead he makes some comment about how no one likes it when the band breaks up. Why she's taking out her frustration on Mark confuses him and the fact that he can't figure it out only irritates him more. She's always short with him and he's always there, finding a way to interfere with their cases. He's not sure on what to make of it, so he bites his tongue and silently observes them, wondering if there's more to the picture._

_Sometimes, he catches Mark staring at her and something possessive comes over him. She was HIS partner, HIS friend. He doesn't like the way his eyes dominate over her body or the familiarity in which they trace over her curves as though he has firsthand knowledge on where and how to touch her. He's never been a jealous kind of guy before and this surprises him because he has no reason to feel this way but even so, he finds himself going out of his way to touch her whenever Mark is around. Fingers on her arm or strategically placed on the small of her back, sometimes he simply stands beside her, so close that his shoulders brush with hers. He even starts making snide comments. If she notices, she never lets on._

**...**

When the kiss ends, he pulls back but doesn't step away from her. He's breathing hard and his eyes are darting around frantically, searching her face for some sort of sign. She's panting as well, her back still pressed against the wall. Her hair falls wildly around her as she watches him carefully. He sees the surprise and fear in her eyes. But he doesn't move from where he's standing, still invading her personal space. He can smell her perfume and her apprehension and the hint of her lavender shampoo. She looks so small standing in front of him that the only thing he can do is to whisper into her ear that he doesn't want her to go.

He needs her to stay because he stayed for her. And if she were to leave than she would be taking much more than just his partner away, she would be taking his life with her. He steps forward and lifts his hand, touching his fingers to the side of her face. Her eyes fall to where his hand moves and he can feel her shaking beneath his caress.

He can feel his own tears as they swell in the lids of his eyes, can feel the dampness as they finally make the long journey down his cheeks and to where they cling briefly to his chin before falling. He buries his head in the nook of her neck and shoulder and clings desperately to her shoulders because he knows it's his turn to breakdown. He cries and holds her so tightly that he wonders if he's leaving bruises. He doesn't know when she had become so vital to his existence, only that he's in love with her and has been for some time. If her choice is to leave him, then he will make sure that she knows she is leaving him just as broken as she.

**...**

_After she kills Slater, she's standing in this state of shock. Her mouth is slightly opened and her eyes are damp and she's so quiet and still. And in the next moment she's in his arms, clinging to him so tightly. There's something about holding her that feels so right that he allows himself to forget about her betrayal, to forget about her and Cross and the lie they had been keeping. The ache sort of dulls, the sharp edges blurring just enough that the pain he had felt doesn't seem nearly as important anymore. He could have lost her._

_And in a flash, her guard is back up and she tries to pull away from him but he folds her tighter into his arms. Her skin is ice-cold and he rubs his hands all over her, trying to transcend his warmth to her. Her bones feel so fragile and small in his hands and he thinks if he squeezes too tightly he might crush them. Her fingers move against his coat, not sure on rather or not to push him away or hold him closer but then he feels the pull and tugging of his coat fabric as she bunches it into her fists, holding desperately onto him._

**...**

When she walks out of the bathroom, he follows closely on her heels. He's grabs for her arms but she pulls away and tries to walk faster but she has forgotten that he can match her stride for stride and she doesn't get very far. She turns on him and places her palms against his chest and pushes him with all the strength that she can muster. He barely moves and she stands perfectly still, her eyes closed. She takes a breath and then another, but neither of them says a word. Time snaps back into place and she opens her eyes once more. Not much space separates them and he can feel her trembling, he's trembling too. She's close enough to him that he can see that she has no more fight left in her.

Her eyes meet his and they're this unnatural shade of blue, and she smiles. But it's this sad gesture, not the bright, uninhibited smile that he's used too. It's not there for long, her lips drawing once more into a tight line across her face. She tries to explain that she needs to leave but her words blend and come out unclear and he tries to stop her, tries to figure out the right combination of words that will get her to stay. But then she's gone and with her another piece of his life. It crumples and folds and perishes in the very spot that only moments prior she stood.


End file.
